


High Over Yonder

by AngelinaVansen (catherineflowers)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e26 Basics Part 1, Episode: s03e01 Basics Part 2, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineflowers/pseuds/AngelinaVansen
Summary: A series of scenes from the Hanon System, assuming that the Kazon had better targeting scanners, and destroyed Tom’s shuttle after all in Basics.





	High Over Yonder

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the early 2000s. Lyrics are from "Angel" by Jimi Hendrix.

1.  
_“Angel come on down from heaven yesterday  
Stayed with me just long enough to rescue me.”_

“Oh, my bones ache,” she sighs.

Chakotay watches her profile in the half-light of the cave. He’s ready again: never so ready as when he’s with her. He wants to go again. He places his hand, spread fingers, across her belly. Beneath the light sheen of sweat, it’s taut, ripe.

He rolls her towards him, a smile on his lips all the time. Buries his face in the crook of her neck. “Love you, Katie-pie,” he mumbles against her skin, into the fragrance of her hair. More than loves her.

They sweat in the heat of the midday sun as they make love again, cushioned only by their clothes underneath them. They are meant to be out here conferencing, Captain and First Officer, but already those roles seem less than real. Even the junior officers smile softly to themselves as they leave together. Everyone knows. Hell, so close by, the crew can probably hear the slap of his balls as he glides in and out of her, the rasp of her breathing. And she’s not exactly a quiet lover.

He sucks her tongue with his own. Never so happy. That’s why he smiles when he’s coming, eyes half closed, breath panting through his teeth. Always when he regains himself, he finds that she’s been looking. Watching.

She snuggles into his neck, exhausted and sated. “Love you too, Chakotay,” she breathes into his ear.

 

2.  
_“And she told me a story yesterday  
About the love between the moon and the deep blue sea.”_

She wades into the river almost naked, to wash her thighs. Only Chakotay’s battered grey turtleneck is round her shoulders, like a shawl. He’s flat out, on the grassy bank, sleeping the sleep of the sated, a smile on his face. A hundred yards upstream, she hears the chatter of the crew. 

She doubts anyone will bother them; they are all too busy building shelters with the forest wood. Besides, this is her new Ready Room, this lovely clearing. It’s not unlike her old one, either, in its way. Soothing tones of green, a place to sit and think and work.

She had come here alone today to do just that, the thinking part at least. Chakotay had surprised her, made love to her on the bank, passing his hands all over her new body without a murmur. Again, he hadn’t noticed.

Every day, she thinks he’ll comment. Detect. Her larger breasts and darker nipples. Her fuller belly. How they have made love practically every day for the past three months without stopping for her menstrual bleeding. 

She is a little hurt. Even Tuvok noticed. Said it was “quite plain” that she was with child. Quite plain to everyone but the father, apparently. The man who sees her naked every day.

Mostly, though, she is afraid. Afraid of telling Chakotay, of changing their relationship. His making a woman pregnant is what got them into this mess, after all. How will he react to fatherhood against his will a second time?

Also, less rationally, she is afraid of waddling around in front of the crew for the next seven months, of having everyone know for certain that she is fucking her First Officer. She already hates the sniggers and the knowing looks. After Crewman Chell caught her knelt between Chakotay’s legs that time, it’s only gotten worse, and she’s a private person.

Afraid hugely too of giving birth, with only Kes to help her and no pain relief. She’s not exactly built for this, with such narrow hips. It won’t be easy. There is a high chance of her becoming the first human in over two centuries to die in childbirth. It could be horrible.

Slowly, she wanders back to dry land, washed off now, feeling sleepy. Part of her wants to crawl back into his embrace and doze off with him. Pretend the strength in his arms will make everything all right again. He looks so peaceful. Happy. Happier now than he ever looked on Voyager, despite his second chance.

A man like this shouldn’t be cooped up on a starship, she thinks. He needs the outdoors; he needs to get back to basics, to living off the land. This is perfect for him, in a way even more perfect than New Earth. Here there are real challenges. He doesn’t have to occupy himself with hobbies.

In the end, she does lie down next to him, but she doesn’t sleep. 

 

3.  
_“And then she spread her wings high over me  
and she said she’s gonna come back tomorrow.”_

"Oh, Kathryn," he sighs. "I don't have the energy."

This much is true: he has spent all day in the woods with Neelix, but her appetites are insatiable at the moment. They make love every night as if it were their last chance. In a sense, this is true. When the baby makes its appearance, they won’t be able to have intercourse any more, not until Kathryn goes through the menopause. They daren’t risk this again. They’ll have to find other ways to satisfy each other.

"It's all right," she whispers, little more than a ghost in his ear. "Just lie there. You don't have to do anything."

She kisses his lips quickly before moving on to his chin, his neck, his chest, further and further down. Then, her white hands deftly move to the button of his trousers, pulling it open, opening the fly. 

He watches her. That’s most of the fun. Open-mouthed, she sinks her face into the tight curls of his pubic hair, revealed in the triangle of flesh she has exposed. Chakotay's breathing grows heavy, hard and hitching in his throat despite the fact that so far, she has done little more than breathe on his penis. She kisses him there, lips only at first, soft and stroking, and then she nibbles him a little and even touches him with her tongue.

Chakotay's hips jerk upwards sharply and his hands help her thrust his trousers down, over his buttocks and down to his thighs. She smiles at his eagerness. Thank heavens she doesn’t take no for an answer.

She watches his penis inch its way into a full erection. Her eyes are naughty. She hovers over it, letting the promise of the deed do all the work, letting his anticipation arouse him. He is tense and rigid in the low light of their shelter, the tension almost completely unbearable. 

Slowly, limbs curling like a cat, she rests her head down on his thigh, sliding her hand up his body beneath his undershirt. He clutches at it, holding the slim fingers hard. All the time, she is breathing warm against his cock.

It is throbbing by the time she rolls her head over, letting her hair fall down across her face like a shroud. Finally, her lips meet his penis. Just kisses at first, no licking or sucking just yet, just feathery, baby-soft kisses. He moans in complaint, soft and low, again and again in the silence.

"Kathryn ...." he groans, his hand groping blindly for her head, grinding his hips against her mouth. thrusting for her lips. She tongues the head, her flat, warm tongue. Works the shaft with her mouth, moving the skin with her teeth. Instantly, he is close. He tangles his fingers in her hair. His moans are strangled.

“Stop,” he chokes. “I’ll come ...”

She grins, and the warm breath of a trademark Janeway chuckle goes across the wet head of his cock. She does stop, and pulls herself up on her knees, looking a little ungainly with the bump poking over her unfastened trousers.

She scrambles up on the bed to kiss his mouth once again. He wraps her in his arms, feeling her all over with his big hands, sliding them into the waistband of her own trousers so he can touch between her legs, parting her hair and her labia and pushing into her. She is wet and tight. He doesn’t think he’ll last long enough to penetrate her, though.

She knows this, obviously. She reads him well. Slowly, she gets up once again on her elbows, this time wriggling out of her undershirt and bra, pulling her arms free from the straps, releasing her breasts. They look good, and they’ve been sensitive lately. With a wicked half-smile, she moves up again, manoeuvring herself so that the head of his penis rests perfectly in her cleavage, held by its warm softness. 

Desperately, Chakotay jerks his hips upwards, finding both relief and stimulation at the same time from her bosom. He listens to himself grunting and screws his face up, taking hold of her swollen breasts quite hard, holding them together and against him, grinding hard. 

“Oh, God, oh, Kathryn ...." he moans, the litany of their fucking, always. He grips her hard as he tries to fight, but it isn’t any good. He comes. His gasps are loud inside the still air of the cabin. She is beautiful. She is everything he ever dreamed she would be. 

He watches as she coats her fingers in the seed splashed across her chest, and licks them.

 

4.  
_“Sure enough this morning came unto me.  
Silver wings silhouetted against the child’s sunrise”_

She is up in the night again, checking him. Emanuel, her son. She scarcely believes him. How easily he had slipped from her body, after so much worry about it. So little pain. He was so healthy, too, crying lustily at once, eyes straight open.

She had held him and whispered to him while he gazed at her, shocked and startled at the bright light of the world. Her son. She thinks how fiercely proud her father would have been. How besotted her mother would have been. She longs for Voyager, a swift ship to take them home, or Q, suddenly to appear.

But back on Voyager, he never would have existed, of course. Her son. The EMH would have found and corrected the malfunction in her or Chakotay’s conplant. But then she and Chakotay would never have been doing baby-making activities, anyway, so it would never have mattered, and things would have been normal.

She wakes several times in the night, to check him. In a way, she needs to make sure he is real. He hardly cries, and when he suckles from her breast he does so for hours, plump and content. Chakotay watches him sleep, laughing. He says his little mouth is Kathryn’s perfectly.

Chakotay performs rituals, most of which look like mumbo-jumbo to Kathryn, involving stones and twigs and chanting. But his soft voice, his mesmerising hands ... she wants these rituals to mean something to their son too, one day. She participates.

And later, if they finally have a minute, he divests her of her pants and runs two fingers softly over her entrance, circling. Till she’s gasping, hearing herself moan. If only ...

“Love you, Katie-pie,” Chakotay groans, against her clitoris, his tongue a wet soft wave that builds until she comes. “Love you ...”

 

5.  
_“And my angel she said unto me  
Today is the day for you to rise.”_

Emanuel runs naked along the beach, howling. Huge waves crash. Chakotay watches, grinning. His eighteen-month-old son has a jellyfish in his hand. He doesn’t like it, but he isn’t letting it go. How like his mother Kathryn. She is farther up the beach, hunting for firewood, and in the distance he can see her hair, streaming out behind her like a wave of fire.

“What have you got there?” he asks his wailing son as he approaches.

Emanuel plops the jellyfish into his father’s palm. 

“Thank-you,” says Chakotay. “Shall we put him back into the sea?”

There is a small pool which is draining back into the ocean. The two of them go over to it, Emanuel holding Chakotay’s hand, toddling behind. Gently, he releases the jellyfish, and the two of them watch it in the pool. Emanuel sniffles.

“There we go,” Chakotay says.

He picks the boy up on his shoulders, and heads up the beach to meet Kathryn.

 

5.  
_“Take my hand, you’re gonna be my man  
You’re gonna rise.”_

He rocks beneath her, fingers inside her, sliding wetly over her g-spot. Her head is thrown back as she straddles him. She sees only the cabin roof, but there are stars in her mind as she moves closer to orgasm. Breath hisses from her mouth explosively at every movement of his fingers, and her fingers dig into his chest like claws. His cock stirs again against her backside, getting hard again for the next round. This is fantastic.

With Emanuel off at Tuvok’s morning lesson with the other kids, their sex life has become incredible again. Heart-stopping. He bites down against her nipple and she gives a strangled shout, crossing over, her body shaking, sweating. She wonders who can hear her as she cries out wildly, but she doesn’t really mind. She’s not quite the Captain any more.

She recovers while he licks his fingers clean of her moisture. His tongue across them, slow with relish, like he’s licking a tasty popsicle. He takes her hips and moves her up towards his face so he can lick the flavour from its source. While he’s doing so, she sees his penis is rock hard.

He breaks away, his face hot and red, his eyes dark with passion. “Make love with me,” he whispers.

She giggles and squirms as he takes a swipe at her most sensitive part with his artful tongue. “I am...” she whispers back.

“No, with intercourse. Make love to me with intercourse,” he groans, so needy. Not that she isn’t needy for it, too, but ....

“We can’t,” she sighs. “You know that, Chakotay. Not until I stop my periods. We couldn’t risk another pregnancy.”

He snuggles closer, face against her bosom now, nuzzling at her nipple. His eyes are kind, mischievous. “Would that really be so bad, Katie-pie?” he asks. “Another baby? Another Emanuel? We’re good parents, I think that we deserve another shot.”

“This planet ... the risk’s too big. I’m not strong enough to go through what Jetal did. And could you face what Harry went through?”

She moves away from him, her nakedness feeling like exposure now. She picks her dress up from the floor and puts it on to cover herself. Jetal’s small daughter had been stillborn, and Harry’s wife had died in childbirth. Neither were incidents that Kathryn had relished.

“We’re strong,” Chakotay says at last. “And besides, Emanuel’s birth was easy. There’s no reason to believe the second one won’t go just as smoothly.”

She turns to look sadly at him. He lies there propped up on one elbow, and he looks so good in the morning sunlight that she wants to go to him at once and acquiesce. His golden, hairless skin, so broad and smooth, and his penis slowly going limp across one thigh.

“No,” she says, though, nonetheless. “I’m too afraid, Chakotay.”

“That doesn’t sound like Captain Janeway,” he teases, but his eyes are sad. “Captain Janeway’s not afraid of anything.”

“That’s because she never had a child,” she says, and turns away.

 

6.  
_“And then she took me high over yonder.”_

Out front, he watches her though the window. His lovely Kathryn, long hair tied up behind her head. Emanuel is trying to get his stuck kite down from the treetops. And crawling by the doorway, knees and fingers dirty, is their baby daughter, Little Katie.

He watches Kathryn. She is remarkable. Every bit as fascinating to him as she was that first day on the bridge. She is working on a project now, a beacon she designed with Tuvok. She is hoping it will get them off the planet.

It hasn’t been a popular decision, not even with Chakotay. He is worried for them, worried for their children. The Kazon may have forgotten all about them now, and it would be better to live their lives in safety, wouldn’t it? Who knows who may come to seek them? They weren’t even all that far from Borg space.

But Kathryn is determined. They had a blazing row late one night, while she was eight months pregnant. All she thinks about is home. All he thinks about is stopping, settling. They never agreed. So she and Tuvok worked on it, with only a few of the crew to help them. No one else is quite sure. Everyone else is worried about their children.

He goes outside and scoops Little Katie off the floor, ignoring her howl of protest. He doesn’t want her filthy; she’s hard enough to bath. He helps Emanuel with his kite. Watches over Kathryn’s shoulder as she works on her precious plans. She shoots him one of her quirky grins, and shoos him away. 

Later, they make musky love, under the blankets and quietly, so as not to wake the children. Her skin feels good, her breath hot and quick against his shoulder as she comes. The heat of it, the smothering lack of air, reminds him of those times, all those years ago, when they were in the desert where the Kazon first abandoned them. How silly it seems now that they were embarrassed, hiding their relationship. How unlike them.

Slowly, they relax and cuddle, skin sweetly damp and aromatic, pores all open. Kathryn sleeps, and Chakotay watches her profile silhouetted in the half night light from the window. How much he loves her. Thanks her for this chance.


End file.
